Pack
by faolan228
Summary: Sometimes, accidents happen. Sometimes, it's someone else's fault entirely. Sometimes, we have to go on living with those consequences. Tara, Willow, life, and love in the Sunnydale way of things.
1. Chapter 1

Title: Pack

Rating: PG-15, perhaps R later on

Author: faolan228

Disclaimer: I own nothing! Nothing!

Summary: Sometimes, accidents happen. Sometimes, it's someone else's fault entirely. Sometimes, we have to go on living with those consequences. Tara, Willow, life, and love in the Sunnydale way of things.

Spoilers: None

Feedback: Yes please

Author's Note: Just something that hit me while on an 8 hour bus ride today, something that'll give me something to bounce off on when not working on 'Sentinels'. Hope you all enjoy!

**Chapter One: Infection**

"Phhhfffptptpt!"

And the award for most unattractive sound ever goes to Willow! The redhead shook her head and shoulders and repeated the sound, nervousness making itself known in the form of puffs of air forced out between her lips.

She was right to be nervous to, after what she had just put Tara through. The power was out, and who knew how long the other witch had been sitting in the dark while Willow was off with her friends doing various daring dos.

'_But that's what the candle is for!_' Yes, the candle would make the perfect peace offering. Not only would it be useful in the darkness, it'd serve a metaphorical purpose too. Months of pussyfooting around each other, shy kisses shared with no actual discussion on what those kisses _meant_ would finally come to an end, the gift of the extra flamey candle a confirmation on how extra flamey Willow herself was.

That she had chosen Tara. Chosen Tara over her first love, Oz.

Oz, who after his rescue had given her a pained look, opened his mouth as if to say something, and merely driven off without a word. It…hadn't hurt as much as she thought it would have. Instead, it was as if a weight had been lifted over her shoulders. A part of her would always look back on their time together fondly, but belonging with Tara was just _right_.

Unsure of her feelings for the other girl at first, it had come up suddenly, swelling in heart til it felt like her chest would burst from it all. Tara, rushing to meet her, gasping for breath while one arm clasped her bag over the other, alerting her to what had happened to Oz. He had attacked her, and moreover, he was a sort of romantic rival. She could have left it at that, leaving him to the Initiative and the Scoobies wondering where he had wandered off to this time.

But she didn't.

She had rushed to Willow, terrified and gasping and bag clutched to her arm like a sort of shield, because it was the right thing to do. Because even if Willow wouldn't choose her, it still had to be Willow's choice. Not like the werewolf who, whether intentionally or not, sought to destroy what he viewed as an interloper.

Sweet, noble Tara.

When she stepped into the dorm room, Willow's heart almost broke at the sight of her, curled on a chair and just staring out the window, as if she thought there was no possible way Willow would choose _her_, as if she thought Willow's mind hadn't been made up long before.

"Y-you have to be with the person you love."

Willow felt her heart clench again. '_Why does she always act like she doesn't deserve to be loved?_' At that very moment, Willow vowed that Tara would always know she deserved to be loved. "I am," she said confidently.

There. She said it. Willow Rosenberg loves Tara Maclay. And there was that swelling feeling in her chest again. Oh, she was definitely going to need to shout it from the rooftops later, wasn't she?

"N-no."'

It felt like a sucker punch to the gut. "What?"

Tara backed away from her, bringing her arms up to wrap around herself, but stopped with a flinch. "I-I said no, W-willow."

"But…but I love you!" Willow stepped forward, earnest and distressed and just so, so confused. Tara stepped back again, until she bumped into her desk. "Tara, please…why?"

Trapped between Willow and her desk, Tara could only look at everything but the redhead, one arm grasping the other. Somehow, Willow's eyes travelled downward. Perhaps it was fate, perhaps it was instinct, perhaps she just knew how to read Tara so well. Whatever it was, it would continue to be a topic for debate years down the line, but at the moment, Willow could only note the heartbreak and the dropping of her stomach.

Tara's arm, the one she had held(hid!) behind her bag earlier, the one she was struggling to lift properly, was illuminated by the candle light.

And so was the neat but bloodied bandage wrapped around her forearm.

"H-he," Tara swallowed. "He bit me."


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2: Avoiding Repetition**

It just wasn't fair.

Her first love left her because of the wolf in him, and now, ready to move on with someone who made her feel things she never thought she could feel so strongly, the vicious cycle was starting anew.

Willow wanted to lash out at the world and all its unfairness, kick and scream and make it hurt for all the bullshit she had to go through.

But not at Tara. Never Tara. This was not her fault.

Sweet, beautiful, soft Tara. Willow couldn't play the victim in Fate's cruel game when it was Tara herself who would suffer the most. Willow had seen Oz go from a quiet, gentle musician to a ravenous, primal beast and watched as each full moon slowly chipped away at his psyche. Tara, who was far quieter and gentler, why this would surely destroy her. And that was the most unfair thing of all.

She wanted to find Oz, and drag him back here, make him pay and make him fix what he'd done in any way possible. Impossible, as there was no way to contact Oz now, and even if there was, a cure was impossible. Even the so-called miracle technique he had learned in Tibet had obviously failed.

Tara choked back a sob, and Willow snapped back into reality, suddenly feeling guilty.

A minute or three had passed since Tara's revelation, and Willow had fallen silent, her expressions showing the pain and hurt inside. Tara of course, misinterpreted it.

"I-I'll go." Why was she making a move to leave? Wasn't this her dorm room? "I-I'll leave you alone. You w-won't have to deal with this again."

The candle was slammed down on the desk, and Willow reached out and grasped Tara's uninjured arm. "No," a deep, shuddering breath. "Tara, no. I told you. I love you. We can deal with this. I chose you, I love you."

"E-even with the w-w-w" she couldn't say the word.

"Of course even with the wolf!" she exclaimed.

"B-but you a-and Oz-"

Willow cut her off sternly. "I never stopped loving him because of the wolf. I never stopped loving him at all."

Tara looked down. "Oh."

"I stopped being _in love_ with him after he left and refused to work through our problems. I stopped when a met a certain blue-eyed witch to love even more, but I was a dummy and it took me this long to realize it."

"Y-you're not a dummy," Tara murmured shyly.

"Yes, yes I am a dummy," she said. "If…if I admitted what I felt for you outright, y'know, like a normal person, there'd been no confusion and hurt-y feelings with Oz, and you wouldn't have gotten hurt," Her voice trailed off pitifully. "S'my fault."

Tara pulled her into a hug, a quick motion that meant she had powered through her shy nervousness to do so. "You're **not** a dummy and this is **not**your fault," she said sternly. "Okay?"

Willow sighed. "Okay. I promise I'm not a dummy, so long as you promise not to hide from me, okay? We can work through this, but it has to be together if we want this relationship to work. No brushing off problems as 'wolf stuff that I can't understand'," she sighed and leaned forward, forehead pressing against the other witch's. "Keep me involved. We can get through this, Tara, but please…don't hide from me." Oz had done so to her and it had hurt. But Tara? If Tara did the same, Willow had no idea what she'd do.

Tara felt hope well up inside of her. Willow still wanted her, despite what she was becoming. It wasn't even something she considered, hadn't even dared hope, yet here she was. "Can…can you show me? I don't, I mean, you know more about werewolves than I do right now."

Willow pulled back, smiling at her though her own eyes were still red-rimmed. "We have a while to go over things. Until the next full moon."

But then, a creeping realization settled in her bones. Hadn't it been a full moon when Oz bit her? She turned her head to the small calendar Tara kept at her workspace. The woman in her arms tensed as well.

"T-that's in less than a week."


	3. Chapter 3

**Dirty Tube Socks** In any other setting yes, I definitely agree! But this is the Buffy-verse, with it's own rules, rules which I begrudgingly promised myself to stick to for this fic. Taken from the Buffy Wikia, '_It should be noted that a newly-bitten werewolf will not transform until the falling of the next__ full moon night, even if the bite was received during a night of the full moon itself_.'

**Golden Waffles **Always glad to have a reader who can pick up on stuff like that! Fear not, for it shall be explained shortly.

**Chapter 3: May Day**

One second.

Two.

Three.

Time seemed to stretch on as they stood, as if paralyzed' staring at that little calendar. It was clearly shaping up into one of those 'one thing after another, Willow can't get a break' kind of weeks. All sorts of plans flitted through her head.

They still had Oz's old cage in that crypt. Willow could free up her schedule for the next few nights, keep her company during the changes. She had the books they consulted during their first were-scare, too. Nothing that Willow herself didn't already know, but perhaps Tara would appreciate reading the information.

'_Wait a minute…_' Willow stared, not quite believing what she was seeing. "It's May," she croaked.

Tara seemed to deflate in her arms. "Oh my god," she breathed.

"It's May," Willow said again, hysterical laughter creeping into her voice. "It's May!"

The calendar said 'April'.

"Praise the goddess," the blonde muttered. "It's May."

Shoulders shaking, the two witches leaned on each other heavily, hysterical laughter wracking their bodies, Willow repeating 'It's May!' again and again, all in various tones of voice. "I swear, I'm gonna get you one of those digital alarm clocks that display the date, too! I can't believe you haven't changed the calendar page!"

"Schoolwork! Lots of schoolwork!" Tara sputtered.

Willow slapped her own forehead. "And it was a full moon a couple nights ago, too!"

Tara shoved her shoulder playfully. "And you couldn't have remembered that two minutes ago? B-before the near heart attack, I mean."

"Sorry," Willow grinned. "I tend to not think clearly when panicked on my girlfriend's behalf."

The atmosphere in the room changed. "G-girlfriend?"

Willow blushed, ducking her head and trying to backtrack. "Well, I, um..I didn't mean to be all assumption gal or anything! But, you have feelings for me, and I have feelings for you, and I thought we were gonna be together, and I guess, Willow-brain defaults that to 'girlfriends'."

"Willow.."

"I mean, is 'girlfriends' even the right word?"

"Will…"

"Partners! Is partners good? Or is it too marriage-y? Not to make you think I'm going too fast."

"Willow, sweetie. Calm down," Tara placed her hand gently on the top of Willow's chest. The effect was immediate as the redhead calmed.

"It's just, we _are_ together, right? You do want to be with me?"

Tara blinked. "H-how-? That's not even a question! Of course I want to be with you! I thought you w-wouldn't want to be with me!"

"You…you mean that?"

The blonde nodded, all trace of shyness and stutter gone. "I'm your girl, for as long as you'll have me."

Willow pulled her into a tight embrace. "My girl," she muttered. "We have time, and we have resources. You're mine to love, and we _will_ take care of you. I promise."

Tara pulled her lips away from Willow's forehead. "We?"

"The Scoobies," she said slowly. "Usually one has to be chased at least 5 times, kidnapped twice, or suspected of villainy, but I think 'bitten by werewolf' is more than enough of an initiation, don't you think?"


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4: As Nature Intended**

The Espresso Pump was uncharacteristically slow today, with only two other tables filled and one guy, Ernie, manning the till. "Ernie's a sweetheart," Willow had said. "He always makes sure to greet the regulars by name!"

While she waited at the table, Tara brought her hand down to itch at her bandage. It was annoying, really. It wasn't even the type of itch that could be relieved with a good scratching! Oh no, it was the kind of itch that came with slow healing and, knowing from experience, inevitable scarring.

The advanced healing factor of a werewolf, she had been disappointed to hear, did not apply to the initial wound. It was some odd magic that Willow could not explain either, though the redheaded witch theorized that it probably functioned as an identification marker for werewolves at some time or another.

Oz had been bitten on the hand by a little cousin, and so his scar was small and fairly unnoticeable. Sadly, he had not treated Tara in kind. The wound on her arm didn't so much resemble a bite as much as it did a scratch. Oz had not chomped on her. He had caught her under the elbow with a fang, and cut her open from elbow to back of wrist as she pulled away.

Willow had fussed over it as she changed the bandages before bed.

Perhaps if the situation had been different, if her day hadn't been so emotionally and physically draining, and perhaps if Tara was sure what kind of touches could or couldn't infect Willow with lycanthropy, their night would have been full of incessant lovemaking. Sadly, that wasn't the case.

Instead, Willow had spooned up against her in that way that was so uniquely Willow. Her legs wrapped around Tara's own, chin resting between breast and shoulder, head angled for optimum snuggles while at the same time glaring balefully out the window and whatever nasties crept beyond it.

'_Mine.'_

Tara never felt safer.

Woken by the rising sun peeking through the window, Tara had crept from under Willow's embrace and slid to the floor, ready to start her morning meditation. As a natural witch, Tara had a deep connection with earth and nature. Whereas Willow(and most Sunnydale witches, now that she thought about it) cast spells of the flashy nature and summoning things from the ether, Tara was of a softer sort. Prayers and enchantment for safety, charms for protection, things like that. Even the 'smokescreen' spell she had used against Jonathan's monster was an act of merely condensing the air around her into a fog.

It was only a manner of channeling that earth energy and bending in the direction you wanted it to. Before meeting Willow, her morning meditation and energy channeling was her favorite part of the day. She'd delighted in the feel of being reenergized, as well as the sensations that washed through her. The tickling of a blade of grass, the coolness of morning dew, the trickling of a stream, shade under a tree, a cool breeze, the moon illuminating the dangers of the night, and the warm sun as it glinted off of the red-gold hair of her lover all told Tara of the gifts Mother Earth provided her with, gifts she utilized more and more now.

Crossing her legs, her eyes fluttered shut and she let her own energy meet that of the earth's.

_Tall, brambly grass, itchy and abrasive but providing good cover. Shaking but wide awake and energized by last night's rain. The roar of a nearby river, the difference between life-giver and death-bringer just a slip of paw. The hollowed out underside of a large, dead tree. The howling wind as it whipped around her. The sun, its oppressive heat bearing down. The moon, it's silvery light casting aglow The Mate's pale face…_

Tara's eyes snapped open with a gasp, and she stumbled backwards and tried to stand at the same time, crashing into her dresser and waking Willow, who shot up with a flailing of limbs and a snort.

"Whu-whazza..Tara?" Alert now, she rose to steady her girlfriend. "Baby, are you okay?"

"Y-yeah," she drew in a shuddering breath. Rather than a cool, tingling, energizing feeling, she felt as if she had chugged a bottle of ice water on an empty stomach. Not at all unpleasant, yet at the same time not pleasant at all. "Yeah. Just…just meditating." She tensed her body in an attempt to still her shaking, and more or less succeeded. She pulled Willow into a kiss, both as a comfort and as a way to distract her.

"Mmmmkay," the redhead smiled, returning the kiss eagerly. "How're you feeling?"

"W-well,"

"Argh!" The redhead slapped her own forehead. "That was a stupid question, sorry! You got nommed on by a _werewolf_ and I'm asking how're you're doing? Geeze, Willow! Insensitive mu-"

Tara silenced her with an index finger pressed to her lips. "Shh." She pulled her hand back. "N-not to bad, all things considered." She smiled shyly. "I slept really well, though."

Willow's lips quirked up. "I slept really well too. Just consider me your Willow-pillow!" She paused. "Well, since I was on top of you, _you'd_ be the pillow," her eyes flickered down to Tara's breasts and back up again. "I'm your Willow blankie!"

Tara laughed, a good feeling after the past 24 hours. "Well how about this, my Willow b-blankie: we freshen up, and then head for the Espresso Pump?"

"For caffeine-y goodness and baked goods?" Tara nodded, and Willow's eyes lit up. "Breakfast date! Whoo-hoo!"

A deep pounding and a muffled voice came from the other side of the wall. "Congrats on finally getting a booty-call, Tara, now tell her to shut up! Its Saturday morning and some of us are trying to sleep!"  
>More pounding and muffled agreements filled the air as various occupants of Wiesman Hall's third floor offered their congratulations or opinions.<p>

Tara look mortified, but Willow tilted her head. "They seem more friendly than folks back over at Stevenson."

Tara rolled her eyes good naturedly. "S-shut up, Wendy!"

Willow's jaw dropped, and giggling, she and Tara threw clothes on and rushed out.

And that led her to now, here at the relatively empty Espresso Pump waiting for Willow to come back with their order. Tara focused on her fresh bandage, fiddling with the edges.

A shadow fell over the table as a figure invaded Tara's personal space, the young witch tensing as she felt the sudden surge of power behind her.

"Hey baby," a returning Willow said cheerily. "I got my usual mocha for me, and a half-hot-chocolate-half-Brazilian-with-a-shot-of-hazelnut for you and oh! Hey Buffy!"

"Okay," the wide eyed Slayer said. "Who cut up my best friend's honey and do you need me to go all Slayer on them?"


	5. Chapter 5

Title: Pack

Rating: PG-15, perhaps R later on

Author: faolan228, aka Starr

Disclaimer: Starr owns nothing! Nothing!

Summary: Sometimes, accidents happen. Sometimes, it's someone else's fault entirely. Sometimes, we have to go on living with those consequences. Tara, Willow, life, and love in the Sunnydale way of things.

Spoilers: None

Feedback: Yes please

Chapter 5: Presented to Alpha

Willow opened and closed her mouth. She had honestly not been expecting Buffy here at this hour, let alone having to speak with her about Tara's problem so soon. "Um, well, you see…"

The Slayer smirked. "It's alright if I call her your honey, right?" She turned to Tara. "Is that alright? It's just, Oz obviously went bye-bye last night, and here you two are. Together. In the morning…" she trailed off awkwardly.

Tara blushed and ducked her head. "If it's alright with Willow."

"Of course she's my honey!" Willow exclaimed a little too loudly. "My honey Tare-bear, my boo, my fuzzy-wuzzy pookie-" she stopped immediately, as if suddenly remembering exactly how 'fuzzy-wuzzy' her girl was going to be. The Slayer lifted her hand, laughing softly.

"Okay, you Sapphic Casanova you, we get it. Willow D. Rosenberg's a smitten kitten."

"And damn proud of it, too!"

Still smiling, Buffy turned to the other blonde at the table. "Wow, Wills got all chest-puffy twice in under five minutes. You, Miss Maclay, must be one inspiring chica."

"I try," she said, smiling shyly through her hair.

Seeing her best friend and her gal make small talk for the first real time, Willow's first instinct was to hover and fret. Still, she saw this as the opportunity it was, for the two women closest to her to get to speak. "Hey, Buff, want me to get you a coffee?"

The petite Slayer brightened. "That'd be great Wills!"

"Alright, alright," she said as she turned towards the counter. "What was it again? Strawberry, caramel…"

"Raspberry vanilla mochachino!" She turned to Tara with a wry smile, puffing her bangs out of her eyes. "I swear, we've been best friends for over 4 years and she still can never get it right."

Tara's small, shy smile widened and her heart swelled. What did it mean, then, that Willow had hers memorized by the second coffee date?

The two lulled in an easy silence, as Willow headed to the back of the line that had begun to form at the café register. Far enough to not seem overprotective, close enough to intervene should Buffy do something embarrassing. Buffy sighed. "This is ridiculous."

Tara jumped in her seat a bit. "S-sorry?"

"Oh, no! Not you! I meant," Buffy waved her arms, gesticulated some sort of abstract idea or paradigm that was all lost to Tara. "You're like, my best friend's gal. We should have more to talk about, yeah?"

Tara twiddled her thumbs. "I um, I like your shirt?"

Buffy laughed, once but true, and caused Willow and several other patrons look over in alarm. When she had calmed, she seemed more relaxed. "I heard about what you did. Yesterday, I mean. How you went to get help, even after Oz attacked you."

"I-It's not that big o-of a dea-"

"It was very kind. And very brave."

"I-I," she took a deep breath. "I just did what any decent human being would do."

"In Sunnydale," the Slayer said, the weight of the world seeping into her voice. "That's a true feat." Then, it was gone. "You were the one who figured out the whole Faith-and-me switcheroo too, right?"

Tara nodded.

"Thanks for that. I just realized I never thanked you for that." A goofy smile. "I'm not _always_this rude, I swear."

Willow returned with Buffy's coffee, the Slayer giving another enthusiastic thanks. The redhead slipped into her seat, sliding her chair until she and Tara sat thigh to thigh. "No swapping of embarrassing Willow-stories, I hope?"

"W-well, _I_don't have any."

The redhead smiled adoringly. "You'll have loads soon enough, promise."

Buffy have happy little squeak. "Wills, I know we haven't had much best friend time in a long time, but I'm glad I ran into you guys this morning." She took another sip of her drink. "I wanna fix that. I wanna know you, Tara. And I wanna let you both know I'm happy for you."

Tara's heart swelled, and for the first time she saw Buffy not as the Slayer or as an abstract figure in Willow's life, but as an actual girl reaching out in friendship. "T-thank you."

Willow was equally delighted, bringing both her hands up and curling them into fists before splaying her fingers out. Unsure where to place them now, she reached down and gripped Tara's forearm.

The witch let out a pained hiss, and Willow jerked back apologetically.

Buffy's eyes narrowed. "Hey, you guys never answered my question! What happened?"

Willow blanched. "It's a long story."

Tara decided to be honest. "Oz bit me."

"Okay, maybe not so long."

The expression on Buffy's face was unreadable.


	6. Chapter 6

Title: Pack

Rating: PG-15, perhaps R later on

Author: faolan228, aka Starr

Disclaimer: Starr owns nothing! Nothing!

Summary: Sometimes, accidents happen. Sometimes, it's someone else's fault entirely. Sometimes, we have to go on living with those consequences. Tara, Willow, life, and love in the Sunnydale way of things.

Spoilers: None

Feedback: Yes please

Chapter 6: The Alpha's Duty is to the Pack

NOTE: I apologize for the first paragraph. Merely a reminder of who's writing this and all, xD

To say that Buffy exploded would be like saying Hiroshima and Nagasaki were merely blips, and Chernobyl a bubbly fart of a particularly saucy giant. Actually, the bubbly fart metaphor was a far better one, Willow decided. There was the awkward silence as the Slayer's expression gave a sense of 'will she, won't she?'(explode, not fart), the slow rise as her face contorted, and the loud noise as she shot to her feet, slamming her palms onto the table.

Tara flinched, ducking her head and trying to look as small as possible. And it had been going so well, too. Willow's friend had been on the path of accepting her as a part of Willow's life, and now it was ruined. Perhaps it was for the best. The best friend knew better than anyone what sort of suffering Willow had gone through in giving her heart to a werewolf, and Tara knew better than to assume the legendary Slayer would abide by that yet again.

_'Maybe she'll slay me_,' she thought bitterly. _'Way better than having Willow and suddenly...not_.' She reached down, giving the redhead's knee one last loving squeeze before they were to be undoubtedly separated.

"That little prick!" Buffy screeched, turning the heads of several customers. Willow's knee jumped in her hand, and Tara looked at the Slayer with no small amount of surprise and trepidation.

"E-excuse me?" Tara wanted to clarify, and Willow was of no help, gaping like a fish.

Buffy flung her arm, the perfect image of an Indignant Woman. "What was it, some sort of 'If I can't have you, no one will' thing?" she asked, gesturing to Willow, and then Tara's arm. "Or," her eyes narrowed dangerously. "Was this is his attempt at putting an_ironic twist_on things? 'Girl leaves werewolf, only new love is also a werewolf'? Ugh, choke on a capo, guitar boy-"

"No!" With both sets of eyes suddenly on her, Willow blushed, ducking her head in a very Tara-esque manner. "I mean..." despite choosing Tara over him, and despite all that he'd done, she didn't want the werewolf to be painted in such a light.

"N-no," Tara intervened. "He um, he smelled Willow on me and he Changed," the way she said it implied that 'changed' was capitalized. "The wolf chased me."

Buffy took note that she said 'the wolf', not Oz, or even 'he'.

Tara didn't blame him.

The witch ducked her head self-depreciatingly. "I wasn't fast enough." Willow raised her hand, caressing Tara's cheek with the back of it.

"It wasn't your fault," she whispered. "Never, ever, ever." She sucked in air. "If anything, it's my fault." Her girlfriend whirled to face her, eyes wide. Willow held up her hand to stay her beloved's protest. "If...If I had been upfront about it, about us..." she trailed off, not sure where her logic and self-blame were leading her.

Buffy had read, and yes she indeed read, of couples who looked at each-other and the whole world around them vanished. She liked to think she had it with Riley, and perhaps with Angel, but to witness it from an outside perspective? In a show of solidarity, Tara had mirrored Willow's earlier face caress, and the redhead melted under the blue-eyed gaze.  
>Buffy let them carry one in their own little world for a little while before letting herself interrupt. Reaching out, she clasped Tara's uninjured forearm. The witch jumped, snapped out of her reverie, eyes momentarily wild at the unexpected touch. However, once realizing it was the Slayer, she calmed.<p>

"I'm sorry," Buffy said sincerely. "From what I've seen, and what Willow's told me, you're sweet. You don't deserve this. No one does." Willow stared at her best friend, tears welling in her eyes. "I'll do anything I can to help you two out, alright?"

Tara was speechless. She had heard of Buffy's heart and kindness from Willow, but to be on the receiving end of it? This sort of easy conviction and acceptance that she'd found nowhere else but with her mother and Willow?

She was feeling better already.

WTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWT WTWTWTWTWTWTWTWT

In the end, they set to work preparing Tara's cage. Oz's so called 'herbs and meditation' obviously were largely ineffective, otherwise they wouldn't be in this situation. A short debate between the two best friends on whether or not to tell the others had them deciding to keep Tara's condition on a need to know basis, and even then, only if the blonde was comfortable in telling.

They set to work in repairing Oz's old setup, Buffy turning to the heavy lifting with a gusto. All in all, she too blamed herself for Tara's condition. Maybe if she had been a more attentive friend, Willow would not have felt it necessary to keep it a secret for so long. Maybe then, they could've been open. Maybe then, Tara could have somehow not been bitten. The paths the mind took in self-blame were not linear ones though, and so she distracted herself with work.

"Ooh," Willow husked, feeling wicked teeth nibble at her neck. They had ditched Buffy several minutes before, on the promise of returning with food, but had gotten sidetracked.

"Shh," Tara hushed, stilling her. "N-no w-wiggling."

Oh yes. The dilemma. When she had been with Oz, biting was a strict no-no. Wolf magic was finicky like that, the slightest puncture of skin and saliva in the blood, and you had yourself a new werewolf. When her relationship with Tara had begun, the biting had been new, something once forbidden, leaving her weak at the knees not only because of the fact that it was biting, but that it was Tara doing it.

In the advent of Tara's new condition, Willow had mourned the loss of delicious Tara nibbles, of only for the moment. Tara was nothing if not careful, and though she really should have known better, Willow-skin under her teeth was too good a temptation.

It certainly helped that Tara was suddenly more aggressive. Not scarily so. In fact, it was rather subtle. Willow, usually the instigator, was more often finding herself cornered and nibbled upon, lusty kisses all over her face and neck and shoulders. They hadn't gone much further than that, despite wanting to. So the kisses sufficed.

Willow wasn't complaining.

WTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWT WTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTW

All in all, it was a pretty good setup.

For a cage, that is.

Willow, in a desperate attempt to make it as comfortable as possible for her girlfriend, had spared no expense, as far as her budget could allow.

"I think you went a bit overboard there, Wills," the Slayer commented dryly.

Willow scoffed. "Nonsense! Just look at-"

"She's...kinda right, sweetie," Tara was blushing, rather embarrassed, seeing as the cage was, in fact, for her.

The cage now held a rather large dog bed, special ordered to be larger than what was usually made available for most large breeds. It gave off an herb-y scent, claiming to calm dogs, though in actuality was probably there to hide the smell of puppy accidents.

Nearby was a large water bowl, blue with little white bones on it. That, Tara decided, was okay. The dog bed was the major distraction. Weak legged, she plopped down the the cot Willow set outside of the cage for herself, suddenly woozy.

This was really happening.

She was gonna turn into a _dog_.

Sitting there, while her lover and the Slayer admired their handiwork, Tara vomited all over the cold floor.

Willow whirled with a gasp, horrified."Baby!"

Buffy winced as the scent of it hit her sensitive nose. "You um, want me to go get some of Giles' books?" she asked, helpfully.

This was going to be a long process.


	7. Chapter 7

Title: Pack

Rating: PG-15, perhaps R later on

Author: faolan228, aka Starr

Disclaimer: Starr owns nothing! Nothing!

Summary: Sometimes, accidents happen. Sometimes, it's someone else's fault entirely. Sometimes, we have to go on living with those consequences. Tara, Willow, life, and love in the Sunnydale way of things.

Spoilers: None

Feedback: Yes please

Chapter 7

Tara frowned, staring down at the food in front of her. Her recent upchuck had left her stomach empty, and Willow had herded her like an overprotective collie to find something to eat. She really wasn't a fan of fast food, or of beef processed into flat disks of the patty persuasion, but at the moment, the scent of happy California cows on the grill made her mouth water.

Willow had outright refused to go to the much closer Doublemeat, instead insisting on treating her baby to a real California treat. Buffy, of course, enthusiastically agreed, saying that Willow would be paying as payment for the Slayer's hard work in cleaning the crypt and repairing the cage these past few weeks.

And that's how they ended up at In-and-Out Burger, in a far corner booth.

"Okay," Willow came bouncing back to the table, a tray of food on each arm. "I got you a regular, with a side of jalapeños, fries, and a strawberry milkshake."

"T-thanks sweetie," she smiled, and despite still being a bit shaky, her eyes lit up. Not just at the sight of Willow and her presence, but the smell of meat-y yumminess that came with her. Something within her seemed to purr at that combination.

_She brought me food_

"Scoot on over baby," Willow giggled, snatching a fry. "Here, open wide. Humor me and let me do the 'feeding my poor, sick baby' thing."

_**Provider**_

Feeling suddenly warm, Tara leaned closer, taking the fry into her mouth. With hooded eyes, her tongue flicked out, licking away the stray grains of salt from Willow's fingers. Her redhead's breathing quickened, a hitch in her inhale, and she very nearly drew those fingers into her mouth to suck.

Buffy cleared her throat. Loudly.

The two witches sprang apart, blushing furiously. Tara shoved her burger in her face, eating rather than let Buffy see her blush.

"Sorry Buff," Willow said. "I-uh, forgot you were here."

The Slayer waved her off. "It's okay Will. I get it. Big love, everything gets all drowned out. It's actually really cute."

The clatter of a tray caught their attention, and they looked to see Tara, staring at her now empty tray with astonishment. "Done already, baby?" Willow asked, stunned.

"It…it was a good burger," Tara murmured, as if she still couldn't believe the speed in which she had devoured it.

"Even I can't eat one of those that fast," Buffy noted admirably. The whole thing, too. The girl hadn't even left the sort of carnage on her plate the way Xander would've. Every bit had been eaten. Tara flushed, ducking her head as she picked shyly and her and Willow's shared fries.

"Do you want me to get you another one, Tare?" She nodded at her girlfriend shyly, even though her smile was grateful.

'_What's happening to me?_'

Hours later, Buffy walked them back to Tara's dorm. Though their relationship was largely unconsummated, Willow had practically moved in, spending almost everynight there.

"I mean it," Buffy had said to her, voice and face honest. "If you need anything, anything I can do, just tell me, alright?"

"That's Buffy, alright," Willow said warmly as the Slayer walked off. "Always willing to help 'her people'." She nudged Tara playfully. "Face it honey, you're stuck with us now."

The part of Tara, the deep down part that had always wanted to belong, whooped in delight. It was then that she pulled Willow into her embrace, showering her with kisses and little nips. She relished the feal of her girlfriend's body against her own, and her hands slid down Willow's back, trailing the muscles there, before coming to rest on her ass. Tara squeezed.

Willow looked up in shock, and the smirk on Tara's face was replaced by an apologetic look. "Oh, Willow, I didn't mean-"

She stopped at the sly smirk on her girlfriend's face. "Do that again," Willow breathed. Confidence returned, Tara did so, and let herself be led to the bed. Seating herself at the foot of it, she leaned back on her elbows, keeping her firm grip on the swell of Willow's hips as she valiantly tried to scoot back without using her hands.

Willow's own hands set to work. Pressing her full weight on Tara's body, she let her hands trail up her sides and back down. She kept up the light tickling, loving how Tara smiled against her lips. "I feel," Tara started, all trace of her stutter gone. "I feel like I should return the favor."

"Return what favor?" Willow asked, sufficiently dumbed down by Tara lips.

"You let me touch," Tara purred, reaching to give Willow's ass a hearty squeeze. "Only fair I do the same." Willow loved the contrast. Alone with Willow Tara was an entirely different sort of woman than the Tara everyone else knew, and she cherished that part of her girlfriend that was hers alone. As if to emphasis Willow's thoughts, Tara thrust her chest up, wiggling her shoulder playfully.

Willow scrambled up excitedly, undoing each button of Tara's shirt like a child on Christmas morning. "Woah.." she gazed in wonderment at the satin encased orbs, reaching up for an experimental squeeze. Tara gasped, bucking into Willow's hand. "Thank you Tara," she muttered. "For sharing this with me." The adoration in their eyes urged them to press even closer. "I love you," the Willow said, never breaking eye contact even as she lowered her face to Tara's chest to nuzzle and feast.

"Oh, I love you," Tara gasped. "Oh, love you Willow~!"

Just because sex was currently a no-go, didn't mean they couldn't still enjoy each other's bodies in any other way.

An hour later, their makeout session had left them nearly naked, save for their panties. Tara lay on her side, eyes closed, completely content with her world in this very moment. Willow sat up, reclining back against Tara's stomach, warm, comfortable, and an open book on her lap. It was one from Giles' collection that had come into her possession years before, outlying the life and habits of the werewolf. Diligently turning each page, every few minutes she'd tilt her head to nuzzle some nearby Tara-skin, or even reach out and fondle a breast. The soft sighs and purrs she got in response only spurred her on, and rather than distract her, encouraged her to research more for the woman she loved.

"Oh, hey," Willow said, in that tone that said she wanted to share facts with you. "It says here that in the weeks leading up to your first full moon, your body's chemistry is changing, in order to prepare you. Increased appetite is supposed to help balance out the stress your body is under right now."

"Mmm, I don't feel stressed," Tara reached out to trail her hand up from the hem of Willow's panties to up between her breasts. "Do I seem stressed?"

"Vixen," she purred. "Huh. I guess I never really noticed the appetite change in Oz because hey, teenaged boy, right?"

Beneath her, Tara's whole chest reverberated in a low rumble at Oz's name. A rumble that tapered off into a cough, but still most definitely a growl. "S-so that whole, 'three cheeseburgers a meal' thing will wear off, right?"

"…."

"Willow?"

"Oh hey look at the time!" The redhead crowed, suddenly crawling under the covers. "We should get some sleep, huh?"

With a chuckle and a roll of the eyes, Tara draped one arm over Willow and joined her girl in sleep, fine with letting her off the hook.

For now.

_She was running. Running, and free, and so good. It was similar to riding her horse as fast as they could go, only so much better. Her own legs pumping, adrenaline coursing through her veins as the cool air shocked her lungs. This was freedom._

_This was life._

_Then suddenly, trapped. So much pressure, no room to move. No room to be free, to run. Just a prison she could not comprehend, and it felt like she would have to bend and twist and rend her very own flesh to escape it._

_This was terror._

With a groan, tossing and turning in fitful sleep, Tara pawed at the sheets, and tugged Willow closer. She buried her nose in that copper hair, and her senses were flooded with Willow-scent. Asleep though she was, it calmed her instantly.

_Stop fighting. Safe now_


End file.
